Welcome to the Hellmouth
by L Moonshade
Summary: Yet another Halloween episode twist. Hopefully a bit different. There are some new people in town, and Sunnydale will never be the same. Neither will Giles' niece.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All I own is Nissa Giles and the cool scimitar. That's it. Everyone else I'm borrowing, and will return when I'm done. I just want a chance to play with them, for a while.

A/N This idea hit me hard enough that I had to sit down and write it. It's written as a one-shot, but it's certainly left open enough that I can continue with other stories, if y'all are interested. Let me know.

"So, vampires, demons, and things that go bump in the night are real?"

Rupert Giles, librarian for Sunnydale High and Watcher for the Vampire Slayer, nodded. "Yes, Nissa, they are."

"And you do what, again?"

"I'm the Vampire Slayer's Watcher. I help train her to fight evil."

"And I'm now living on a Hellmouth?"

"Where anything can, and generally does, happen. I'm sorry to have to explain it to you at a time like this, but I need you to understand this place—as much as it can be understood—so you'll trust me, and do what I ask."

At a time like this. My parents, Uncle Giles' brother and sister-in-law, had been murdered three months ago. It had taken that long for everything to be settled, for Giles to help me get everything settled with the house and such, and get me moved from New York state to here. Finally, though, I was in Sunnydale, CA, ready to start school. I was looking forward to it, sort of, wanting something to do, but I was scared. A new school, new people, still dealing with the loss of my parents all made for a stressful time. Now, I was learning that all the horror stories I'd read were real, and I'd have to help my uncle fight the forces of evil.

I gave him a hug. He seemed nonplussed—he wasn't used to kids—but he returned the gesture. "I do trust you, Uncle Giles. No matter what type of place you live in, I'm glad I'm with you."

He sighed, almost happily. We'd always gotten along and had kept in touch, even though he'd lived in London and me in New York. "I'm glad you're here, too, Nissa. I wouldn't trust you with anyone else."

We sat on the couch, holding each other, sharing both sorrow and hope for quite a while.


	2. Welcome to the Hellmouth

"Here are the books you'll need," Giles said, setting the pile down on the desk. We were in the school library, where I was getting ready for my first day of school. "You can leave them here, just pick them up when you're ready for them."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

The door opened and three kids my age, two girls and a boy, came in, chatting noisily. They paused when they saw me, looked from me to Giles, then back.

"You must be Nissa," the blond girl said. "I'm Buffy, this is Xander, and that's Willow. We're so sorry to hear about your parents."

I smiled slightly, grateful for her sincerity. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

"I've told her everything," Giles said. "She needs to know, if she's going to be spending so much time with us."

Buffy nodded. "Agreed. Welcome to the club."

"Thanks. Do I get a T-shirt?"

Xander grinned. "No, but that's a great idea."

Willow smiled warmly. "You'll fit in," she said. "Well, with us, not with Cordelia. You don't want to be popular, do you? Because we're anything but."

"If she's anything like the popular girls in my old school, she's shallow, too concerned with appearances, and self-centered."

"Yep. That's Cordelia, all right."

I smiled. "I'd rather have true friends, thanks."

"That's us," Xander said. "Let's see your schedule."

I handed it over and the three of them looked at it. "Well, you've got at least one of us in every class, so we can help show you around," Willow said.

"Science is first. Let's go."

"Sounds good." I turned to my uncle. "I'll see you later, Giles."

"Indeed. Have a good day."

"Thanks."

We left the library, Xander eyeing me in disbelief. "You call your own uncle by his last name?"

"He hates being called Rupert and calling him Uncle just doesn't feel right. We've been friends for as long as I can remember."

"But you didn't know about the whole Watcher thing?"

"I can understand why he didn't tell me. We've only seen each other once or twice before now, after all."

"Yeah, you don't sound British."

"My dad, Giles' brother, went to Niagara Falls for a vacation. He met my mom, who lived near Buffalo, there, and never left. Really, I'm as American as you. So, what happens around here on Halloween? Must be busy."

"That's what I thought," Buffy said. "But, Giles assures me it's all quiet on the monster front. I'm looking forward to a nice quiet night at home."

"You don't do anything on your own?"

"No, Mom's not fond of the holiday."

I sighed. "I love Halloween. It's fun to dress up."

"Well, then, Ms Giles, you're in luck."

We turned to see Principal Snyder, a horrid little rat-like man who ran the school like his own little boot camp. He had a clipboard and a pen in his hands.

"Students are taking younger children trick-or-treating, and you are going. Something to keep you from having a juvenile delinquent's holiday."

Buffy took the clipboard and pen and signed the paper. Snyder grabbed three more pens and handed them to me, Xander, and Willow. We signed, too, then continued on our way.

I sighed heavily. "My first lesson about living on the Hellmouth. Giles warned me, but I couldn't listen."

"What's the lesson?" Xander said.

"Be careful what you wish for."

The three of them started laughing as we stepped inside the science room.

School was good. I spent the day with my new friends, very glad I'd met such good people right away. During lunch, they carefully brought up the subject of my parents, encouraging me to tell stories. I cried, but they were good, healthy tears, and the healing process took a huge jump forward.

After school, we went to a new costume shop. The others had no costumes ready, while I just needed one item. I'd decided to dress up as Danrae, a dancer in the 50s who'd dressed in a harem outfit and performed with a scimitar. I had the costume, I needed the sword.

We stepped into the store and split up. It was small, but packed with items for nearly any costume you could want. I moved to the side wall, where fake weapons were stored, and started looking through the swords.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

I started, turning to the speaker. He was tall, medium build, with short black hair and a British accent. "Yes, actually. I'm looking for a scimitar."

He frowned. "We don't get much call for those, but I think I have one…What are you dressing up as, may I ask?" he said, leading me to the very back of the store.

"Danrae."

"The dancer, yes. You're in luck. The only scimitar I have is a replica of hers." He unlocked a cabinet and pulled out a sheathed scimitar. I'd seen pictures of the sword and the hilt looked good; when I drew it, the etchings were there on the blade. The writing was Arabic and, in all the research I'd done, I'd never learned the translation.

"It's beautiful. Oh, I can't possibly afford this."

The man smiled warmly. "Oh, I'm sure we can make a deal."

We left the store half an hour later, Willow with a cheesy ghost costume, Xander with a fake rifle to go with his grandfather's fatigues, Buffy with a 17th Century noblewoman's dress, and me with the scimitar.

"Well, homework, then for the trick-r-treating. We'll see you later."

Willow and Xander went home. I started heading for the apartment I was now sharing with my uncle, but Buffy took my arm.

"Giles said he was staying late at the school. You can come home with me, if you don't want to be alone."

I smiled, realizing that I'd done more of that in the past day than I had since my parents had died. "Thank you, Buffy. I'd like that."

Buffy led the way to her house. "How did your parents die?" she asked gently.

"The police are looking for a madman. They'd gone to Mom's school reunion, were coming home late. Apparently, they'd stopped to help a broken-down car on the side of the road. When they were found—with the car's driver and passenger—the four of them…their throats were torn out like from a wild animal. Now, I'm wondering if it was really human."

"It sounds like it could have been a young or vicious vampire. So, now you're here, where there's even more death and violence."

"It's okay. You all can use every bit of help you can get and I'm with Uncle Giles. There's no one else I'd rather be with, at a time like this."

"You hardly ever saw him, but you're so close."

"We wrote constantly. Every couple of days, we'd get a letter."

"That's good. Family's so important. Here we are."

It was a nice house, flowers around the outside, chairs on the porch and open curtains giving it a homey feel. We climbed the steps and Buffy let me in.

"Mom, I'm home."

"Oh, Buffy, hi…Who's your friend?"

"This is Nissa, Giles' niece."

"Oh, it's nice to meet you. I'm Joyce. Are you visiting?"

"No. My parents were killed a few months ago. Uncle Giles is the only other family I've got."

Joyce's face fell. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Well, welcome to Sunnydale. Can I get you two a snack?"

"No, thanks, we'll wait until dinner. You don't mind, do you, Mom?"

"Of course I don't. Nissa, you're welcome here any time."

"Thank you Mrs…"

"Joyce, please. I'll call you for dinner."

Buffy and I went up to her room, where she showed me some of her slaying tools and gave me a stake to keep on me at all times. We worked on our homework for an hour—and almost got it done while Buffy caught me up on all the gossip—before Willow came over. We ate dinner, then went upstairs to change.

"I don't like this," Willow said for the umpteenth time.

"You look great," I told her. She did, too. Buffy had transformed the shy, quiet girl into a streetwalker, with net hose, a mini skirt, and a tight, low-cut midriff-bearing shirt. She'd even lent Willow a pair of her chunky heeled boots, put the girl's hair up, and laid on the make-up with a trowel.

"It just isn't me."

"Do you think this is me?" Buffy asked, coming into the room.

"Wow, you look fantastic!"

She did. The dress was a darker red with silver ties and trim, low cut and lifting to show off cleavage. Buffy had put her blond hair up under a black wig, its long hair piled up on top, with two locks hanging down, one on each side of her face.

"So do you. You look hot, too, Nissa."

I was in full harem mode. The pants were a deep blue with silver trim, the shirt made of light enough material that, even though it was billowy, clung to my torso. I'd covered my hair with a silk scarf that wrapped around my face and neck, only showing the eyes which I'd lined with kohl. I had sandals on my feet, the toes decorated with rings. The scimitar hung from my side.

"Thanks."

The doorbell rang. "That'll be Xander. Come on, Willow."

"I'll be down in a minute."

Buffy and I jogged down the stairs. Xander looked good in his fatigues, but his mouth fell open when he saw us.

"Wow, you two look fantastic. Fully clothed, nothing tight, I fully renounce spandex."

Buffy curtsied. "Thank you, kind sir. Wait until you see Willow. She's…"

"Going chaste," I murmured, elbowing Buffy; Willow had thrown her ghost costume on over the clothes Buffy had put her in.

"Well, let's go get this over and done with."

We met the kids at the school and went off in separate directions with our groups. My route took us near an empty building, that didn't look quite so empty. There was a sign in the window that read, "Coming soon, Sunnydale Dojo."

Just before we got there, the door opened and a man stepped out. He was of medium height, slim, with short brown hair and a pleasant, if unremarkable, face. So, if it was so unremarkable, why was I staring at him?

He, too, was giving me a long look, starting with a lingering glance at my eyes, then moving down.

His appreciation of me changed when he saw my sword. His body stiffened, his warm brown eyes turned cold. He looked at me angrily, then turned and went back into the dojo.

I wanted to go in, ask what was wrong, but I never got the chance. My body stiffened, itself, as something changed. Something was pushing _me_ to the back of my mind, was replacing it with…

I gasped, but the sound never left my mind. I didn't know that man, but the woman who was now in charge of my body did. Danrae knew him all too well.

It was odd. I was still there, seeing and hearing everything that was going on, but I wasn't in charge, anymore. That was Danrae. She was in control of my body, though I shared her mind, and what I saw through her memories, what I learned of her and the man I'd seen, threw me for a loop.

Danrae started to go into the dojo, but I wasn't the only one who had become her costume. The kids I'd been in charge of were running off, now become demons, witches, vampires, or ninjas. What a madhouse.

From somewhere nearby, the sounds of a gun rang out. If I'd been in control, my blood would have run cold; if I'd become my costume, so had Xander. I figured that if Danrae didn't share my memories, the soldier Xander had become wouldn't share his, and that meant that innocent people could die.

Danrae ran towards the sound, drawing her sword. I winced, thinking, "Bad idea. Really, really bad idea." She didn't hear me, of course, and soon made it into the middle of the intersection, where Xander was standing with a very real AK-47.

Xander was looking straight at me. All the soldier knew was that a woman was running towards him, holding a sword, and he was in danger. He fired, hitting Danrae—me—full in the chest. She went down hard, and I learned what it was to die.

I came to with a harsh intake of breath. Willow was standing over me, sans ghost costume, trying to shake me. She was failing miserably, due to the fact that she was, yep, you guessed it, a ghost. Every time she tried to grab me, her hand went right through.

"Would you stop that?" I asked. "That's very cold."

"Nissa! You're alive!"

I frowned, sitting up. "Yes, I am. And, I'm myself again."

"What happened?"

"Let's get inside first. Then, we can talk."

We collected Buffy, who had become as useless as the noblewoman she was dressed as, and Cordelia, who, somehow, hadn't become her costume, and went into Buffy's house. Thankfully, Joyce was gone.

"Look at my costume," Cordelia whined. It was torn almost to shreds. "Party Town's never going to give me my deposit back."

I sat up and took notice. Party Town? We'd gotten our costumes at Ethan's and had changed. Cordelia hadn't which meant that Ethan's was the cause, somehow. I filed that away for the moment.

Xander and I barricaded the door. Once done, I stepped back towards the kitchen, then spun, drawing my sword in one fluid motion. Danrae's skills had stayed with me, apparently.

"No!" Willow shouted.

The blade stopped, barely touching the neck of tall, dark, and handsome. He knew when to stand still, and didn't move. He didn't even breathe. No, really, he wasn't breathing.

"He's a Soulless," I said. Apparently, I still had Danrae's memories, too. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

"He's a good guy," Willow said. "He's got his soul."

I met the man's gaze, finding what I was looking for. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, someone was home. I lowered the sword, sheathing it.

"I'm Nissa. Sorry about that."

The man moved, relaxing, his face registering sympathy. "Angel. Don't worry about it, honest mistake. I'm sorry about your parents."

"Thank you."

"What's going on?"

"We've become our costumes," Willow explained. "Xander's a soldier, Buffy's a 17th Century noblewoman, and Nissa was Danrae, but, she died and is herself, again."

Angel gave me a long, appraising look. "How did that happen?"

"Only one thing could kill her permanently. Xander shot her, which seems to have ended the effect."

"You can use a sword that well?"

I shook my head. "I've never picked one up before tonight. I've still got her skills and memories…Wait a minute. She's seen something like this, before."

"I'm lost," Cordelia said.

"I don't have time to explain," I said, falling into the memory. Ancient Greece, a follower of Janus, a spell, and chaos reigned.

"I've got it! Willow, go tell Giles what's happening. Angel, how did you get in?"

"The back door."

"See a lady out?"

Willow left through the front wall, while Angel walked me into the kitchen.

"Danrae's dealt with people like what Buffy is, now. She's helpless, Angel."

He nodded. "That's the era I lived in. I know. I'll keep an eye on her."

"Good. I don't want to loose such a good friend just after I found her."

Angel eyed me as he opened the door. "How old are you?"

I sighed. "Sixteen. But, I've got the weight of millennia on me, now," I said, then left.

The streets I traveled to the costume shop were nothing but chaos. Normal humans who hadn't gotten dressed up, those who had become something more benign, and the few who hadn't become their costumes at all, were being chased by those who had turned into monsters. They pretty much ignored me, though, seeing as how I was armed, and not easy prey.

Ethan's was quiet when I got there. It was closed, but that didn't stop me. I broke the glass in the door and let myself in that way.

"Ethan," I called.

He came out from the back room. "Ah, yes, Danrae. I remember you. You do the costume justice. You even move like a dancer."

"Thanks for the compliment. How about ending the spell?"

"So you figured out it was me. How?"

"It was easy. Of our group, the only one who didn't get her costume here, was the only one who didn't change. Not difficult."

"No, but Americans are so thick, these days. Especially when it comes to the supernatural."

His sleeves were rolled part way up. He was wiping his hands on a towel and, as his wrists moved, I saw a tattoo on one of them. A tattoo I recognized.

"You're that Ethan," I said. "Well, won't Giles be interested to know you're still up to trouble?"

"You know Giles? Well, what a small world."

I moved through the store towards him. "Isn't it, though? I was looking through his yearbook; I should have recognized you right away. So. About stopping that spell…"

"I'd really rather not. It's so much fun, don't you think? Tell me, you got part of your costume here, why aren't you Danrae?"

"No, I don't think I'll tell you that. Not time to show you my hand, just yet."

He cocked his head. "You are Danrae, though. Part of you, at least."

"Yes. And she has no problem doing what's necessary." I was close enough, now, that I cocked back my arm and landed a solid right hook on his chin, knocking him down.

He fell partway into the back room, parting the curtains that were there. That's when I saw it, the bust of Janus, both faces visible. I kicked him, another solid blow that dazed him long enough I could walk past him, draw the sword, and break the bust.

I didn't change, the spell had stopped affecting me after I'd died. But there was something in the atmosphere that had changed.

"Nissa?"

I turned. Ethan was gone, which didn't surprise me. Giles was standing in the doorway.

"It was Ethan Rayne," I told him. "A spell to Janus."

"I should have known," he said wearily. "What happened? How did you know?"

I heaved a sigh. "It's a long story. Can I tell you over hot chocolate?"

He put an arm around my shoulders. "Let's go home."


	3. Epilogue

I was standing outside the soon-to-be dojo. Going by Danrae's knowledge of what she was, I had to keep using her skills until they were truly mine, or I'd lose them. Since I was immortal, now, just like she'd been, I'd decided I shouldn't lose them, so I'd started going out on patrols with Buffy.

He was in there, the man who'd given Danrae the scimitar. That was why he'd turned so cold; they'd loved each other for five thousand years, until she was finally killed for good. I looked down at the sword in my hands. I'd finally learned what the etchings said, "Immortal Beloved, Death loves you too much to take you." How could I keep it from him? He hadn't given it to me, he didn't love me, I had no right to keep it.

I approached the door, my heart fluttering. It would whenever I came near one of us, I knew. It was how I'd died, after all. By the time I was at the door, it had opened. He stood there, eyes going cold again when he saw me.

"We became our costumes," I told him. "I didn't know until then…Here. It doesn't belong to me."

I held the sword out. He took it, stunned, shocked into silence. I nodded, this was right, then turned to leave.

"What's your name?" he asked.

I paused, but didn't look. "Nissa."

"I'm Adam, at least for now. Would you…come in and talk?"

I turned, wondering. I saw the sincerity in his eyes and offered a shy smile.

"I'd like that."

He smiled too, stepping aside to let me in.


End file.
